


Remembered

by intheheart



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheheart/pseuds/intheheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a rare night off, Lavellan and Solas relax and share an evening in her quarters with wine, conversation, and a question with more meaning than she knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembered

It was a rare night in between missions. Tomorrow afternoon, they were due to set off once again, but tonight, while preparations were made, Inquisitor Lavellan informed the guards she didn't want to be disturbed for anything not urgent. She was the Inquisitor, though much was required outside herself that it was tempting to dig in her heels in a sense of mildly desperate obstinence on occasion. Whenever she could find rest and a sense of freedom to keep herself going, she would take it. Tonight, Solas accompanied her in her quarters, and she was glad for the company.

Solas sat on her sofa, body slightly turned toward Lavellan, who rested her head against his chest; the regular beat of his heart a comfort. Her feet were bare, legs drawn up and knees bent. Since they began their relationship so tentatively, evenings like this would've been outside her imagination when she began all of this work, even after arriving at Skyhold. She spent time with others, had made friends, but this nurtured feeling, something she'd been a stranger to for a while, and in whatever this life of hers was now, she thought might have taken her for granted. Leaving her heart open was accidental, finally culminating in a stumbling, hesitant, and undeniable union. Initial confusion having cleared away, this was something she now lived, something she had; something that was _hers_.

“Solas? How do you want to be remembered?” Lavellan asked languidly between sips of strong Antivan red wine.

He stiffened almost imperceptibly, swallowed his own wine, then slowly inhaled before speaking.

“Remembered?”

“Yes,” she continued, allowing the ease brought by the wine to guide her. “Remembered, after we're long finished with our work here. Once the rifts are sealed, Corypheus defeated?”

A soft near laugh escaped him. “Vhenan, it is you who bears the title of Inquisitor, you who they will write into the history books, compose songs about, perhaps even create paintings to remind all how beautiful your face was....”

“I was being serious!” she interjected, a little too loud.

His eyes met hers and one of his fleeting smiles crossed his lips. They appeared almost solely for her, and she guarded each one as a treasure that might have slipped away.

It was her turn to laugh, a blush creeping warmly across her face, helped by the red. She put the goblet down.

“What is on your mind that brings this question?” he inquired, fingers caressing her cheek.

“My life, it has become a blur of responsibilities, and though yes, I do bear this title, and technically, I have control, I think, inside, I fear losing myself. I know I won't be the one to write my own story, history will remember something, but what? I was wondering just what the historians might write versus what I would want them to write, and I felt....I felt 'me' muted, slipping slightly. I don't know how I want to be remembered. Many were unsure of me, a Dalish elf rising to this task, especially when I professed belief in our gods, our culture, and they tried to assign me this Herald stuff, still. I may be worrying too much. Our work isn't even near at an end. You've been documenting our work. Maybe your painting will be my official tale of record.” She pulled in closer.

Solas began slowly. “I want to be remembered for helping those who required it. For bringing knowledge of The Fade, as not something to fear but a resource, to others. That although The Fade and our reality may both hold truths, thoughtful decisions and interpretation are still required. I would be known as a man who helped, shared, and...taught.” The smile she lamented as fleeting earlier returned.

Driven by desire, the wine, or both, she ignored the haziness in her head, turned, carefully placing a knee on either side of Solas and kissed him, his mouth responding enthusiastically in kind. This was a man who both calmed her heart and made it race, more the latter then, kissing her back, his own lips fluttering down her throat, tracing devotedly further downward, one hand on her lower back and the other, undoing her buttons in hurried precision. His face and ears were tinged with the same red flush as Lavellan's, both of them returning to each other's mouths with hurried breaths. His eyes were closed, focused, this evening less hesitant than the rest, hands firmly on her back now, mouth kissing between her lightly freckled breasts, then tracing their curves.

Another slow smile as his hands and mouth traveled further down. She pulled her top free, letting it fall to the floor.

Solas was _presence_. Present. His presence both grounded her and ignited each nerve in her body. A satisfying conflict. In his eyes, mischief and mystery, plus the wild fire that had become familiar behind his normally so composed demeanor. Lavellan was bright, bold,with home and love in her own gaze. Against all worry, she was _herself_.

“Solas,” she giggled, half breathlessly, as he picked her up, hands first about her waist, then sliding further down. Placing her seated upon the bed, he bent and kissed her shoulders, eyes closed, as if breathing her in. She leaned back, wide, liquid eyes upon his chest, arms pulling him down toward her as she lay back. The angles of his face told stories, the usual contemplation and worry replaced by the pull of her presence, immediate, always drawing him in in full. He finished undressing her, next pulling off his own clothes as well. She pulled his face toward hers and kissed him deeply, guiding his tongue into her mouth with her own, sucking, then biting the tip lightly. Flushed, he shook his head slightly, smiling again, as she pulled him onto her, giggling once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This art: http://osatox.tumblr.com/post/115371662193/osatokun-there-is-love-in-your-body-but-you-cant has been in my mind since she posted it, and it was one of my references for this little tale.


End file.
